"The secret of 'mojo' is staying present, open to the powerful co-creation currently and consistently taking place in your life. Something amazing is always present. But you're not always present. Your judgment, demands, and expectations block your experience of the extraordinary and instrumental. Go where things open up for you. Follow the flow. Be the presence of love for everyone you meet, and stir inspired connections. If you feel disconnected, stop working and do something nourishing for yourself. Feeling good makes you available to recognize and receive more joy, direction, and opportunity." Tama Kieves
These last couple of days I have felt like I can't catch a good, deep breath, I have felt like someone has a whip behind me, saying "Get to work! Get to work!" I have felt tightness in my chest, cluttered messiness in my head. As I sit here looking out the window at blooming trees, green galore, I close my eyes and notice the feeling of the fresh air coming though the open window, I listen to singing birds, I see clearly why I've been feeling this shallow-breathed frantic-ness.
I see clearly that, rather than being where I am at any given moment, I've been submerged in (negative/constricting) what ifs. My mind has been thinking about all the ways I might disappoint, how maybe "my way" isn't really a "good way." I've walked passed blooming rhododendrons, forgotten to hug my beautiful little girls, told myself I must do more, get it together, get organized, get centered.
In other words, I've been everything but present.
Today when I woke up, I reminded myself that this very moment is all that matters. I stretched extra long in bed before getting up, I said a prayer that went something like this: Please, please help me to stay present, awake, to whatever is before me. Please help me to see that this moment is all that matters.
There was still the menacing, militant voice (the one I think we all have if we're human) that kept trying to tell me to hurry up, to get a grip (like "getting a grip" is ever a good thing) - to do more. But, rather than allowing it to toss me all over the place, I stayed mindful, present - alert. That "little me" voice is not the one I want to listen to & I always have a choice.
This morning, I remembered to breathe deeply. My girls and I chatted, I paid extra attention to the blossoming trees, I noticed the blooming miracle of spring. I let the cool morning air fill my lungs and soften all those hard, holding on places. My mind quieted down. I felt myself held, open, remembering what matters.
This very moment is what matters. This one. The one you are breathing in right now. Can you let it open you? Can you let it feed you? Can you let it soften the holding on places? Can you trust that what is right before you is the perfect teacher? Can you trust that what IS is exactly what's supposed to be?
Can you give yourself a break? Can I?
Can you see that no amount of getting it done, no amount of getting "it" will ever fill you if you're not already full? And that you can only be full - here. Now.